


Broken Pieces (Pieced Together)

by LadyoftheWoods



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blindness, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Driden Virgil, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gorgon Deceit | Janus Sanders, Hurt Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, King Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Mild Blood, Mild Injuries, Prince Remus, Protective Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Protective Deceit | Janus Sanders, Rociet, Roman Sanders is a Good Brother, Roman has self worth issues, Sympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Sympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Sympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, intruality, logan is more mentioned than actually appearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: On a quest to save his brother, Roman chooses to sacrifice himself rather than see both him and Patton harmed.He's saved by the most surprising of rescuers, though he faces more than a few challenges, both old and new, in his recovery.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 36
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is one of the other projects I've been working on, that's stolen my attention away from some of my other WIPS. Unlike the other ones, I have this one almost finished as I'm posting this chapter, so you can expect regular updates. hopefully. Whenever i say that it always seems to go to hell. 
> 
> Anyways, I really like this one, and I've given you some soft Rociet mixed in with the angst.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Roman, what are you… no, Roman… ROMAN!”  
….  
He hits the water hard.

It was a long fall, of course, he slams into it with the force of a comet, piercing through the white river waves.

He doesn’t know which way is up, it’s all dark and swirling nothingness, currents and sharp, jutting rocks, and the cold…

Oh, it’s cold, it’s a shock to his system, it’s paralyzing his muscles, even as his lungs scream for air, air, air, he can’t move a muscle.

He gasps, as he slams into something, hard, water filling his lungs, red hazing his vision, and he can’t tell if it’s blood or just an effect of drowning, though the copper he can taste points towards the former.

His body is trying to expell the water, but with every cough he inhales more, his body becoming heavier as his vision dims, and he can’t find the surface, he can’t focus, he can’t breathe.

Regret swarms him and his mind slips away.  
…  
He comes too heaving, choking, coughing.

It burns, in his lungs, his throat, even his nose, like citrus on a cut, like being covered in paper cuts and thrust into a vat of lemon juice, it burns!

Even after, after he's expelled buckets and buckets of water, he can’t stop coughing, soaking wet, he’s shaking, from the force of the ripping hacks, until he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air, and he sinks back into the dark.  
…  
Cold. 

It’s cold, or maybe he’s just cold, he thinks it’s dark, too, but his vision is blurry, and when he tries to sit up, agony rushes up his shoulder, and he collapses back to the ground, retching from the wash of dizziness that overtakes him, the world spinning, even closing his eyes doesn’t ease the sense of vertigo, his hands weakly digging into the earth, trying to center himself, but it’s impossible. 

He tries to breathe, to just keep breathing, but even that wrenches through him, and he chokes, gasping and curling up, as tight as he can, trying to conserve any, any heat. He can’t focus, he can’t think straight, he can’t…

Get up. He needs to get up. 

He shoves himself up to his knees, regret spiraling through him as the action springs tears to his eyes, his legs numb beneath, his shoulder pounds, blinding agony piercing his chest, the pressure increasing until he can taste blood on his tongue, and he barely realizes he’s fallen back to the ground as the pressure forces him to cough again, blood burbling past his lips, and he has the vaguest awareness that this is not good, if he can’t find shelter, if he can’t pull it together, he’s going to die, but the vertigo overwhelms him again and he crashes into unconsciousness.   
…  
“Well, look at thissss.” A voice hisses, he can’t focus, it hurts, everything hurts, and the dizziness, it’s worse than ever, he can’t think past it, everything swirls, his ears are ringing, and he weakly shakes his head, trying to clear it, to get the noise to stop, but it just makes it worse, and he whimpers, stomach twisting emptily, he doesn’t even have bile to hurl up, anymore. “How long have you been down here, little human?” 

He doesn’t know. He wishes he did, wishes he could remember, he could think, because then he would know how long Patton had been alone, trying to make his way back by himself, and anything could have happened to him, it’s not that he couldn’t fight, but that by the time he chose to, it would be too late. Because Patton is kind and caring and far too trusting, not to mention the dangers from the wildlife, from the environment. 

Patton. He had to get to Patton, he had to get him home safely, he had to-

He gasps, as he tries to move, hands clawing into the dirt, trying to get any momentum trying to move, he needs to move!

“Easssy, now. Where do you think you’re going, little one?” 

“Pa… Patton… pl… please, Pat…” He’s crying, he thinks he’s crying, but everything is so dark and twisted and he can’t focus, the world is out of focus, the ringing in his ears won’t stop, and it hurts, his head hurts, it pounds, and his chest is tight, and he’s falling again, it feels like he’s falling again, the world spinning, but he needs to find Patton! 

“You aren’t alone, little one? Where is this one, then?” more tears spring to his eyes, slipping down his face, and he can’t answer, he doesn’t know, that’s the problem, he doesn’t know where he is, he doesn’t know where Patton is, he doesn’t know! He feels a touch against his face, and whines, he tries to open his eyes.

“Don’t-“ he hears a sharp inhale, from the person but he doesn’t see anything, it’s all a gray blur, so he must not have succeeded, after all. 

“Oh, you pretty little thing…” the voice trails off, though the hand touching his face doesn’t leave, stroking lightly over his cheek, and he doesn’t understand, the sudden softness to the action, but he doesn’t care, he’s slipping again, hot tears on his cheeks, because it hurts, it all… everything… too much! 

“pl…please… pat…” He’s shaking, he feels more blood in his mouth, he’s so cold, and it’s so dark, and he wonders vaguely if he’s dying. 

“Shhh, lovely. Don’t you worry. Jussst sssleeep.” The voice hisses, and it sounds so soft, he can’t help but give in, distantly feeling himself being lifted, hissing at the motion, the pain, the dizziness, instinctively pressing close to the warmth, and for a moment, he thinks he feels something scaled against his cheek, before he shudders, losing hold of reality and sinking into the dark.   
…  
Voices. 

“What are you thinking?!” 

“That I could not simply leave him there, Virgil.” 

“He’s a knight, once he sees what we are-“ 

Something whispered, he can’t make out the rest of the conversation, until he hears a low sigh, startling as it comes from right above him, the jerk making his head swim, his body rebel against him, as he struggles to sit up, panic racing through him, pain roiling across his shoulder, sending searing heat up his arm. 

“Shhh, little one, it’s alright, you’re safe.” It’s the voice, the first voice, and he tries to open his eyes, he feels them open, he knows they’re open, but it remains dark and gray. His breathing catches, panic flaring, head pounding in time with his heart, he needs to see, where is he, why can’t he see, why can’t he SEE!?!

“Honey, no, shh, stop, stop that now.” Hands grasp his, he hadn’t realized he was tugging at his hair, clawing at his face, scrubbing at his eyes, why couldn’t he see, he had to be able to see, why couldn’t he open his eyes, why, why, why!? “You need to breathe, lovely, that’s it, just like that, in and out.” The hands are helping him up, but that can’t be right, there’s still hands holding his, but two more are gently moving him upright, and he falls against the person, their warmth intoxicating, as more soft whimpers escape him, hot tears tracking down his face, more arms wrapping around his waist, holding him steady. 

“why… why’s it all d-dark? Why… why can’t I see, why…” He chokes out, a wave of nausea rolling over him, leaving him a shaking, shuddering, mess. 

“No, no, lovely. Don’t worry about that right now.” He’s slipping again, because everything aches and pounds and his head is so heavy, it hurts so badly, it’s pounding, and thinking feels thick and slow, something isn’t right, he knows something isn’t right, he feels so off balance, and wrong, and his heart rate spikes as he realizes. 

No. 

Nononononononono 

“eathe, pl… calm… breathe…” the noise swims in and out, the words lost in his staticky haze, he can’t, hear him, not past the realization swirling through his mind. 

He’s blind

He’s blind. He can’t see. He can’t… how will he fight, how will he be a knight, how will he survive, he doesn’t know the barest thing about navigating sightless, much less surviving, he has no idea where to start, he feels so small, everything feels so terrifying, anything could be creeping up on him, and he wouldn’t be able to see-

He’s useless. He’s helpless as a babe, he’s useless as a soldier, he can’t lead if he can’t see, he can’t strategize if he doesn’t know where the enemy is, what the enemy is, he can’t trust anything if he can’t see! 

He’s sobbing, he’s sobbing, he can’t stop, and it just makes his head pound worse, his chest ache worse, his shoulder is throbbing, and he feels so stupid, so completely stupid, breaking down like this, there are plenty of people who don’t have sight, who navigate the world this way, he knows that it’s not insurmountable, but it feels like it is. He feels like he’s lost everything.

“f… fix it, please, fix it, I c-can’t, I can’t-“ he knows he isn’t making sense, but they seem to understand, holding him closer, humming softly, brushing hands through his hair, against his cheeks, and yes, those are definitely too many hands, but he doesn’t care, because they’re warm and they’re holding him, and they feel safe. “Fix me!” 

“Oh, lovely. I’m sorry, little one, I’m sorry. I would, if I could, if I knew how, I would.” He cries harder, for some reason, sobs and cries and screams, just a bit, he’s too exhausted to hold back his pain, to pretend it doesn’t hurt, and selfishly he feels he doesn’t have to, not with these strangers, not when the person isn’t letting go, isn’t scolding him for his tears, is simply holding him and rocking him, murmuring soft nonsense, until he’s dried out, sniveling and slumped brokenly. 

“it was the water.” His voice is hoarse, raw and scratched, and it hurts to speak, but it hurts to do everything, so really, who cares? 

“What?” 

“I… we were crossing the bridge. It gave out on us. Patton… he had a grip on the rope, on my hand, but it was fraying, and we were going to fall, he was going to fall, he wouldn’t let go. So I did.   
It was the impact with the water, it must have been. The… the angle, or the force, or both.   
I’m blind. Gods, I…” He breaks off, taking a shuddering breath, wincing at the pull in his chest, he keeps blinking, trying to clear his vision, it’s instinct, and it doesn’t clear anything, it never will, and it hurts. “I’m blind.” He whispers, the weight of saying it out loud heavy on his shoulders. 

“You… you let go?” The second voice, the quieter one. He lets out a humorless chuckle. 

“He’s the one who’s really needed, anyways. I was… am… the expendable one. Patton… doesn’t understand, he never would, he’s too kind, to think like that. But I know my worth, and it is worlds less than his. It always has been.” Thinking of Patton makes a new kind of ache start in his chest, one made of desperate fondness and terrified hope. “I’m supposed to protect him. He’s out there all alone, now, and I was supposed to protect him, and I’ve failed.” 

“No. Lovely, you haven’t failed at anything. You protected him, you did, you made sure he got across even if the price was your own life, and past the bridge the forest thins. He’s past any dangers, any… monsters. It’s just the natural woods, now.” Something hesitant enters the man’s voice at the term monster, and he remembers the hand thing, now, the worry in his voice, when he had tried to look at him, another realization striking him far later than it should have, though he finds he’s not nearly as concerned as he should be. 

“you aren’t human, are you?” He asks quietly, voice a bit slurred. His eyes have drifted shut, not that they do much good now, anyways, but it still seems darker, with them closed. Closer to sleep, and he’s desperately aching for unconsciousness. 

“…no. We aren’t.” The hands start to move, to dislodge from around him, and he whines, holding tighter. 

“Didn’t mean you had ‘t go.” He mumbles, the motion stilling, the points of contact hesitantly returning, it’s warm, so warm, and for some reason the gentle cradling from all those hands makes it feel safe, and to his fuzzy, exhausted brain, that’s all that matters. He melts, at a hand in his hair, the person relaxing marginally, at his low hum. 

“Alright, little one. One more thing, before you fall asleep. I need to know where else anything hurts. We patched you up best we could, but I need to know what else to look out for.” 

“shoulder… pulled or somethin. Chest is tight. Coughed up blood, before, from moving, think from a broken rib. Feels better now, though. Head… ‘s dizzy and weird. It hurts, and I can’t remember, right, can’t stay awake.” 

“Probably a concussion, then, not surprising. You’ve done so well, lovely. You can sleep, now, alright? You can sleep and when you wake we’ll have something to eat. How does that sound?” He hums an agreement, as another hand starts rubbing his back, a different one stroking his face, the old scar across his cheek, and he’s blissfully unaware, before he remembers he hasn’t asked what, exactly, they are.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MORE ANGST
> 
> and a bit of comfort and softness

“So. You’re really doing this, are you?” He sighs, at Virgil’s comment, equal parts annoyed and smug. 

“It’s not like I can harm him, Virgil.” 

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Virgil answers darkly, and he lets out another sigh, using a spare hand to brush back his hair, or rather, soothe his snakes, which are mildly agitated, though a gentle brush soothes them. They react based on his emotions, of course, so it’s no surprise this is riling them somewhat. 

“He can’t sit up on his own, he doesn’t even know where we are, at the moment, how exactly is he a threat?”

“You know he is, Janus, or you wouldn’t be arguing with me at all.” Virgil’s right, of course, if he thought that Virgil didn’t have a point he would simply dismiss him, instead of hearing him out. 

“I know.” 

“So why?” 

“Because he was scared. Not for himself,” He holds up his hand, cutting off Virgil’s question, “for his companion. For Patton. You heard him, Vee, he couldn’t care less about what happens to him, even if he’d died, he wouldn’t have cared. He was calling out for him, even now, he’s hardly worried about himself, when he’s the one in the lair of monsters.” The word monster is bitter on his tongue, but it’s true enough, that’s what they are. 

Gorgons. Driders. Terrors. 

That’s how he’d known, before the human even had, that he’d lost his sight. He’d looked up at him, before he could stop him, and for a terrifying moment he waited for the change, for the shifting of flesh to hard stone, the icing over of his skin with that sickly gray, and instead… 

Those soft, hazel eyes had darted around, dilated wide and yet unseeing, and he’d felt such a wash of relief, instantly countered by pity and remorse, for what the human hadn’t yet known he’d lost, and he couldn’t just leave him. He was cautious, he was calloused, perhaps, hardened, but he wasn’t cruel, and leaving him there to die, was crueler than he had it in him to be. 

And now his six arms are wrapped around the human, holding him close, tracing idle nonsense against his skin, the poor thing was still freezing, even though they’d managed to get him dry ages ago. It was probably partially from shock. 

He’d already bound his chest, set that rib back in place. His arm was in a sling as well, his shoulder had been dislocated, thankfully, not broken, though he’s sure it still hurts like hell. His whole body is one huge blackened bruise, and the concussion isn’t surprising at all. It’s no wonder his balance is shot, between the concussion and the vision loss, he just hopes it heals quickly, there’s nothing he can do for that.

“And when his friends come looking for him and find him here? What then?” It’s a fair question. He doesn’t have an answer. 

Virgil huffs, folding his arms, his eight eyes blinking at him.

“I’ll go set up some webs. We’ll at least have a heads up, then.” Virgil grumbles, skittering towards the entrance of their cave and climbing up the exterior before he can say another word.   
…  
Dizzy. Everything is spinning, the darkness is spinning, and he tries to move, tries to get it to stop, succeeding only in making the nausea worse. 

“Easy, lovely. Take some deep breaths. You’re alright. In and out, little one. There it is, there you go.” He squeezes their hands in his, the pressure giving him something to focus on, something to ground him, and as he breathes, the spinning slows.

“alright. I’m going to sit you up now, darling, here we go.” He gasps at the intense head rush that follows, shaking as he clings to the warm of the being, gasping until the awful sensation recedes enough he can breathe without choking on bile.

His feet hang over the edge of the…bed? Some kind of bed, shivering as they touch the ground, the chilled stone grounding him, resetting his internal equilibrium, gods it helped, touching the ground helped, everything seemed to slow, to settle, and for the first time the world stopped. 

“Alright?” The voice asks, and he tries to answer, but a rasping squeak is all that escapes his lips. He clears his throat and tries again. 

“Yeah.” A hand brushes over his hair, and he nearly whines, before biting it back, as the being stands. 

“Good. I’m just going across the room, lovely, we made some soup, you need to eat something.” His ears strain as the soft footsteps walk away. He hears the soft clank of metal against stone, liquid being poured, then footsteps returning, stopping beside him. “I’m going to sit back down now.” He feels the bed shift, as the being does, something smooth and warm brushing his face for just a moment, confusing him, then the voice is distracting him again. 

“Here, darling, open your mouth.” He does, closing it over the spoon, the soup is good, filled with vegetables and soft meat, but he barely manages four spoonfulls before his stomach clenches painfully and he doubles over, gasping for air as he retches, over and over again, until the acid burns his throat and there isn’t anything left inside him, but his body doesn’t seem to get the memo until a minute later. 

“S…sorry… I’m sorry…” He manages, his mouth sour. 

“It’s fine, lovely. It’s alright. Shhh, it’s alright.” The hand is carding through his hair again, melting him against the warmth, he’s so tired, he feels so heavy, everything is so heavy, and he doesn’t know why but everything just… hurts. He doesn’t realize he’s crying, until the hands gently wipe away his tears, cupping his face. “Oh, lovely, oh you pretty little thing, I know, I know, it’s ok.” So gentle, he’s so gentle, what has he done, to deserve this gentleness? From a stranger, from someone not even human, someone-

“What… what do you look like?” He asks, though the question burns his tongue. 

“I…” The voice pauses, takes a shaking breath. “Are you sure you want to know?” Is he? He knows he isn’t human, knows he has at least four? Six? Arms. But… he doesn’t care. He just needs something to put a name to, something to hold onto, and right now it’s this person. 

“Roman.” He blurts, without thinking. The being pauses again. 

“What?” 

“My… name. It’s Roman.” Another moment of silence, of stillness, the person no doubt trying to figure out what to say. “you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want. It’s ok. Don’t need to know, really, just… you’re so… nice.” He mumbles, starting to lose hold of reality again. 

“Nice is not something I’ve been called many times in my life, little one. Little… Roman. It’s not something I’ve had much cause to be. My kind, well, we aren’t exactly welcome. Even if we haven’t hurt anyone, we are seen as a threat and dispatched as such. Being nice is a luxury I can rarely afford.” 

“So why’re you being nice to me? I’m not worth-“ 

“Hush. That, right there, is answer enough. You are worth it. You have worth, Roman, the fact that you can’t see it, is reason enough. That you care, so much, about everyone but yourself, is worth it. You are worth protecting, little one. You have so much kindness in you. Too much, for your own good.” He doesn’t know what to say to that. He knows his brother has often said a similar thing to him, and that stings in his chest, a bit, because his mind has been so scattered he hadn’t thought of the reason for their journey since the fall, and he can only hope Patton has made it home, or else he’ll have lost the both of them. 

“Oh, darling. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“Not… not you, not really, just… just thinking of home.” The being makes a soft noise, gently pulling him closer, tucking him against his side. He buries his face against him, so tired of these tears that won’t seem to stop falling, the endless gray that surrounds him, as he breathes in the scent of hidden things, sun warmed stone, crisp mountain air. 

“My brother is sick. That’s why we were out, this far, there’s a druid, a recluse, with powerful magic and stronger potions, he was the only chance my brother had, and he’s friends with Patton, so we knew he’d at least hear Patton out, because he hates people usually. So I went with to protect Patton, and Patton went to get the potion, and my brother…   
I don’t know if he made it. I don’t know if he’d even be alive, by the time we got back. He was so weak, he was fading so fast, and I couldn’t do anything, to stop it, I just had to sit there and… and watch. If Pat hasn’t made it home…” 

“He has.” 

“How… how do you know?” 

“We have… bonds, with certain animals. We can communicate with them, to an extent. They told us. He reached the edge of the woods two days after you fell.” Another sob of relief escapes him, and he slumps further against the being. 

“thank you.” He whispers, another soft noise coming from the being. 

“Janus, lovely. My name is Janus.” He curls closer, humming contently. 

“Janus. I like it. Reminds me of the librarian back home. She was nice, always gave us cool bookmarks. Let me and Ree paint a mural on the wall.” He slurs, sleepy already, starting to drift. He hears a soft chuckle, the hands holding him steady. 

“Delightful, Roman.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some more conflicted Janus and hurt/comfort

He frowns as Roman slips away again, feeling his forehead. It was warmer than it should be, not by much, but enough it was reason to worry. More worrying, perhaps, was that he hadn’t been able to keep the soup down. It had been at least three days since he’d eaten anything, and he needed something in order to heal. It was that damned concussion. 

He’s confused, as well. He doesn’t know why Roman told him his name, why he would trust him with his name. Names have power, after all, and he’s perhaps more confused why he told him his, in return. Why his chest felt warm, when instead of continuing to ask what he looked like, Roman had instead told him his name. Because… Roman doesn’t care. He doesn’t really care, what he is, he called him nice. 

He wonders what Roman would think of him.

His snakes, yellow with black spots, that are always moving, swaying, tasting the air, keeping a lookout. The golden scales that cover half his own face, the slit pupiled eye on that side as well. The way his nails lengthen into claws, scales curling around his fingers and up his six arms, speckling his legs and chest in random patches, his skin is a soft tan, making the scales stand out even more.

And Virgil, gods, the Drider would be quite a sight. His human torso fading into a spider's, eight spindly strong legs making him nearly seven feet tall, when he isn’t slouching, his eight coal dark eyes that often blink separately, his sharp pincers almost outmatch his own fangs, not to mention Virgil can spit venom, as well. Virgil's body is a deep dark black, that shimmers violet in the light, his skin has a slight sheen of purple to it as well, and both their eyes glow in the dark. 

Yes, humans consider them monstrous. Why wouldn’t they?

To be fair, most are not as peaceful as he and Virgil are, many do harm humans with no qualms, for fun, even, though he supposes it goes both ways. Humans have been hunting them, probably nearly as long as they’ve hunted humans.

And this one is a knight. It’s perfectly reasonable to assume that under any other circumstances, Roman would have fought them, attempted to slay them, but perhaps that, too, is unfair.

He finds it hard to believe that someone as empathetic as Roman would attack without at the very least giving his foe a chance to surrender. 

“oh, little one, what am I to do?” he murmurs, as Roman nuzzles closer into his side with a happily content sigh, the sight enough to bring a small smile to his lips.

Clearly, Roman isn’t used to gentle contact, and that itself just puzzles him more, because he seems so gentle himself, how has no one taken him under their wing, how has no one held him, he melts so easily, it’s honestly adorable. A simple brush of his hair is enough to practically have him purring.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts, shaking his head. Roman isn’t a lost puppy, he doesn’t get to keep him, he’ll wait until he has his wits back about him, then escort him through the forest as best he can, as near to the nearest town as he can go, without being seen or followed, and that’ll be the end of it. 

Virgil is right, after all, if, when, Roman’s friends come looking for him, they’re going to have a world of trouble on their hands. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, especially anyone Roman is fond of, because he doesn’t seem like a bad person, so how bad could his friends be, but he may have to. If it’s his life or theirs, he will always act in his own self interest.   
…  
He’s in the castle. 

He’s in Remus’s room. 

The drapes are drawn around his bed. 

The curtains are pulled over the windows. 

It’s dim. Still. Quiet. Cold.

Remus is none of those things. 

He’s never been any of those things in his life. 

He moves slowly. It feels like wading through quicksand. His breath is caught in his chest. It hurts. He knows this is going to hurt. 

He pulls back the drapes. 

And falls to his knees. 

Remus. 

Remus, dressed in his ceremonial garb, his deep green cloak over one shoulder, his black dress shirt and silk sash. His shoes polished, his silver buttons shining, not a hint of a stain anywhere.   
He’s pale. Face white, eyes closed, he’s cold, cold and still and lifeless. His features are sharp, jagged, his clothes loose, the signs of his illness haunt him even in death, and he can’t. 

He can’t do this. He can’t lose his brother. He can’t lose Remus. 

“Please…” He doesn’t know who he’s begging, anything, anyone, he would do anything, to change this. To take Remus’s place. 

He was too late. He was too late, and he’d failed and Remus was gone, he was gone, everything was wrong! 

“Please, Remus, please..!” 

“Your. Fault.” Remus’s voice hisses in his ear, cold squeezing around his throat, and he closes his eyes, a silent scream building in his chest, he wants to tear out his heart, if this is what it feels like.   
…  
“Shhh, lovely. Hush, darling, little one, little Roman.” He jerks awake, at the voice, gasping as he shot upright, the world spinning, but he couldn’t see any of it, which just made the dizziness worse, and his hands clutch at his hair, trying to make it stop, to make any of it stop! 

“Roman. Lisssten to me. Take a deep breath. In and out. Easy, darling. Take it easssy.” Hands gently trail up his arms, untangling his fingers from his hair, and he squeezes them tightly, taking in gasping breaths, doing his best to slow them, to breathe with Janus. “Good, that’s good, lovely.” With a last shuddering breath, he slumps against Janus, surprising him if his slight gasp is anything to go by. 

“S… sorry.” 

“Oh, little one, there’s nothing to be sorry for, darling. How are you feeling, love?” He shivers, slightly, catalouging himself. Sore, achy, tired. But… the dizziness was abating, now, though he still feels off balance, his thoughts still feel slow and fuzzy. Before he can answer though, his stomach lets out a low rumble, getting a soft chuckle from Janus. 

“Hungry, apparently.” He answers, earning another soft laugh. 

“Alright, darling. I’ll be back in a moment, honey, I’ll get some more soup.” He listens, able to hear Janus walking across the room, spooning soup into a bowl, a moment later feeling the bed dip down as Janus returns to sitting.

“Where’s… the other one?” He asks, and he can imagine the confusion on Janus’s face. “I haven’t heard him. Just you.” 

“Vee? He’s out patrolling. He likes to keep an eye on things. Especially since…” 

“I’m here. He’s worried you’ll get hurt, won’t you? Both of you.” 

“He’s just trying to give us some warning, if anyone’s approaching. No one is getting hurt.” He tries to say it convincingly, but he can hear the slight waver in his voice. 

“They won’t.” Janus huffs, and he feels a hand cupping his cheek, leaning into the touch automatically, it was so warm, gods, Janus is warm. 

“Oh, you precious little thing. You’re so sweet, aren’t you, lovely?” Janus’s voice is a low rumble, and he can’t help the soft sound that escapes him, as Janus pulls back slightly. “I know, lovely, but you need to eat.” He knows Janus has changed the subject on purpose, but he doesn’t push, instead sighing. 

“Alright.” He mumbles, letting Janus spoon him some soup. His stomach twists for a moment, then settles, and he’s relieved as he eats the whole bowl, his stomach holding the contents without any further protest. He feels steadier after eating, a little firmer, a little of the fuzziness dissolving away, though the exhaustion still nags at him, threatens to drown him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will the angst ever end? Stay tuned to find the answer!

“Oh. You’re awake.” He turns his head, trying to find the source of the voice, the world remaining the same static gray, no matter where he looks, and it hurts. 

It hurts, these moments where he forgets and then remembers all over again the things that he’s lost. 

Patton’s sparkling blue eyes, and warm, wonderful smile. Remus’s feral grin, eyes glimmering with mischief. The gardens, on a spring day, all the flowers in bloom, cherry blossom petals drifting through the air, the endless blue of the sea, the stars, gods, how many nights had he and Remus spent laying on the roof staring up at the stars together, inventing constellations? 

“Shit, I’m… what did I do? How do I fix it?” He’s crying again, he realizes, the tears slipping silently down his cheeks, he just… aches inside. 

“Not your fault. Just… thinking.” He mumbles, pulling his knees to his chest, burying his head against them, trying to remember to breathe. “I’m just… just a mess. I mean, I’ve always been a mess, but now I’m a useless mess.” 

“Surely that isn’t true.” Janus says lowly, and he laughs, though there’s no humor in it.

“Of course it is. What use is a broken soldier? What use am I, if I can’t fight, can’t protect them, can’t… can’t even stand on my own?” 

“But… you don’t have to be useful for your friends to care about you.” That other voice answers back, and he curls tighter. 

“That’s a nice thought.” He mumbles in return, shoulders hunching up further, because he knows they mean well, but nice thoughts aren’t going to protect Remus from those who want his crown, aren’t going to stop traitors from going after Pat, because he’s Remus’s paramour, aren’t going to fend off the discord that so often sweeps through from neighboring kingdoms. 

It’s not a matter of care, it’s a matter of necessity. They can’t afford to keep him around, when he can’t do his job properly, much less at all. Plus, now they have to go through the trouble of replacing him, of finding someone else they can reliably trust to be solely on their side, no matter what bribes or threats are levied against them. 

He’s had plenty of both, and simply laughed in the faces of whoever tried to sway him. Usually it was something about ‘don’t you want to be king instead? Aren’t you tired of being second fiddle, being worked to death day in day out, blah blah blah’ and usually he knocked them out around that point, before tossing them in the dungeon to be dealt with later. 

He doesn’t want the throne, and Remus can keep the crown, in all its gilded cliché glory. He knows he wouldn’t make a good king, he knows he’s not smart enough, not quick witted enough, not… not good enough, to keep everything from shattering apart in days. And Patton is just the sweetest, he doesn’t think he could bring himself to hurt him even if his life depended on it. 

Actually, he wouldn’t. As demonstrated by the whole dropping into a river after letting go and falling down a giant cliff, nearly to his death. 

“Oh, lovely.” Janus reaches out, he can feel his warmth, but he flinches away from it, because it feels wrong, he doesn’t deserve that softness, he hasn’t done anything to earn it, and he can’t because he can’t do anything, he can’t do anything, and the kingdom needs him, with Remus as sick as he is, as weak as he is, he doesn’t know what the army will do, if a challenger rises up, because their loyalty lies with him, not necessarily with Remus. 

He’s earned their trust and respect through his own sweat and blood, from not standing by the sidelines, from charging into battle at the head of his troops, alongside his men, refusing to simply order his men like chess pieces. He wasn’t going to put them in a situation he wouldn’t put himself in, that simply wasn’t fair to them, and it made their loyalty go a long way. 

But without him, that loyalty could easily fracture. Remus couldn’t afford to recklessly charge into battle like he did, and Patton wasn’t a fighter. If the army turned against itself in a power struggle, the country would fracture. 

So much was at stake, the people he loved were at stake and he couldn’t do a single damn thing. 

He was hyperventilating. He’s panicking, he thinks. Everything is swirling so loud in his mind, all the worst case scenarios playing out in his mind, he can’t think past the panic, the fear, everything that could have and is going wrong right now, vision blackening at the corners like a slowly burning paper, every breath a challenge as his lungs failed to work properly, feeling like they’d turned to stone. 

“Hey… eath… come on… can do it… n…out… breathe…” It was the other voice, not Janus, sounding more concerned than he’d heard him, and he dimly registered that he was counting, taking deep breaths in and out, trying to coax him to follow suit. He gasped as he felt hands on his, then something warm, and he realized his hand was pressed against someone’s chest, feeling his heart beat, the steady rhythm slowly calming his own. 

“there you go. That’s good, keep it up. In and out. In… and out…” After another long moment he slumps back, scrubbing viciously at his eyes, only for his hands to be corralled by Janus’s, who gently wipes away his tears, preventing him from hurting himself. 

“c-can’t… I can’t… I’ve let them all down, I’ve let everyone down, I’ve failed!” He half wails, half keens, hopelessness filling him. 

“That’s… no, I’m sure you haven’t.” Janus answers, and he rips his hands out of his, hunching in on himself, struggling to keep his breathing even. 

“You don’t… understand, it’s not… it’s not about me!” 

“Then what is it, lovely?” He pauses, realizing they don’t know. He’d assumed they knew, he assumed he’d mentioned it, he assumed… 

Then again, he’s been half dead for the last few days, and these two… beings, whatever they are, clearly aren’t all that connected to the kingdom, trying to hide away from people. 

“you don’t know who I am.” He whispers, curling in tighter, squeezing his eyes closed.

“Um… Roman? Member of the army?” The second voice. He shakes his head. 

“Roman, Second Prince of Aryia, Commander of the King’s Legion, Advisor and brother to King Remus and his partner, Patton.” The second voice curses, and he hears distinctly too many feet as he paces. 

“So, great. It’s not just your pals from a troop we have to worry about storming in here, it’s the literal King’s army.” 

“They won’t. Come looking. Patton saw me fall. He’ll… think I’m dead. There’s no point looking for a dead man, no matter who he is. They have more pressing issues, anyways.” 

“How can you possibly think so low of yourself, lovely? Who convinced you that you are worth so little, to so many, Roman?” His breath catches at Janus cupping his cheeks, the heat it sends flooding through him, the warmth, which almost buries the sting of the question.

“I’m the second born. It’s my duty to be expendable. To protect the throne and the king at all costs. My worth has always been determined by how well I carry out those responsibilities.” Another hand caresses his hair, stealing the thoughts from his head, the memories of his parents, always cold, always frowning, always disappointed because he wasn’t doing enough, he wasn’t learning fast enough, he wasn’t good enough. Not for Remus, and never, certainly never, for him to be favored. 

“That is some bullshit. You literally fell off a cliff for them, if they don’t at least look for you, then they aren’t worth your time.” 

“No! He’s worth everything. He’s the only one who’s ever actually cared about me, and if that potion doesn’t work, if it hasn’t… if…” He can’t bring himself to say the rest of his thought out loud. If Remus were dead. 

He’d know. He’d know, he’d feel it, he needed to believe that this had all been for a purpose, that even though he was broken and useless now, he’d at least fulfilled his purpose. 

“Because you feel you cannot do your job anymore, you believe yourself to be worthless.” Janus states, too gently, too softly. 

“I am.” Janus hisses, and he swears there’s an echo, because there’s more than one hiss, but he’s two seconds from passing out again. 

“Never. You are never worthless, lovely. If nothing else, you have worth to me.” That… shouldn’t make him feel better, but it does, just a little. At least if they won’t give him a place of pity at the castle, he can stay here. 

“That’s a nice thought.” He mumbles again, slipping back into the dark.  
…  
“janus… we’re so screwed.” Virgil says, face pale as he stares at the wall, eyes distant. “They’ll come for him, no matter what he thinks, they will, and when they find us-"

“I know. I know what They’ll think.” 

“So what do we do?” he shakes his head, looking down at the sleeping prince, the dark bags under his eyes, the crinkle to his forehead, the anxiety he could feel radiating from him, unable to let it go even in sleep.

“I don’t believe that they won’t hurt us. I do… I do believe they won’t kill us, not at first, not before questioning us, at least. And I do believe that he will stop them, or do his best to, before they go that far.” He looks up, all of Virgil's eyes focused on him, glittering with hesitance and something unreadable. “I won’t leave him alone, defenseless, helpless. But you don’t have to stay. You should go, Virgil, before they find us here.” 

“you’re an idiot, Jan, you know that? I’m not going anywhere. I’m not letting you be a martyr, Janus.”

“you can’t hurt them, Vee. If they find us, when they find us, you cannot hurt them.”

“I know. I’m not letting you go down alone. You’re the only one I’ve got, Jan, if you’re going down, I’m going down with you.” He huffs, a small smile on his lips, patting the other side of the bed. Virgil sits down beside him, legs folding under him, as Virgil leans against him, letting out a low breath as his snakes nuzzle his cheek. 

“We'll be alright, Vee.” He whispers, hoping Virgil believes him more than he believes himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No. The answer is no.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys go through a rough patch.

He wakes up discombobulated, to shouting and the sounds of metal on stone, voices yelling orders, and above it all, a hissing sound, keening screeches, and he flails, trying to get his bearings, to get to his feet, to do something! 

He manages to stumble upwards, stumble forwards, yelping as he feels a rough hand on his shoulder, blindly striking out, feeling his fist connect with something. Words are being spoken, shouted, something about ‘I’ve got him’ something about ‘monsters’ something about ‘don’t kill them, we need them for questioning’, but he can’t understand any of it, past that keening cry, and he realizes it’s Janus, it’s Janus, and he’s hurt or in pain, and he has to get them to understand, to stop! 

“Prince Roman, you aren’t making any sense. I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but we’re getting you to safety, alright?” 

“Roman!” It’s Vee, that’s Vee, scared and pained, and his head whips around, trying to pinpoint the location, trying to shove off the hands to get to him. 

“Stop! Stop, you’re hurting them, stop, please!” He begs, trying to get to them, to get them to stop, but the hands are holding him back, holding him tight. 

“under some kind of mind control… must be injured…” 

“No, I’m not, I’m fine, please, just listen to me-“ 

“Gag them. Bind them. Be sure that one’s blindfold is on tight.” He hears muffled protests, the sounds of clanking chains, muffled cries of pain, sobs, and he breaks. He screams, fighting with everything he has, he doesn’t care that these are his men, his soldiers, that they are just trying to protect him, they won’t listen, why won’t anyone listen, why won’t they stop hurting them?! 

He gasps, as he feels something sharp pierce his skin, his balance becoming wobblier than it already was, lights exploding in his mind, as the ground seems to tip from underneath him, and he has a moment to marvel at the colors, he’s seeing colors, before the numb nothingness sweeps over him and he realizes he’s been drugged.   
…  
Fuzzy. 

Everything feels fuzzed and far away. He feels heavy, impossibly heavy, and everything is warm, begging him to just slip back under. He’s so tired, too, but he feels like he’s forgetting something important. 

He feels something else. Something cold and cool against his forehead, a hand brushing back his hair, another squeezing his own lightly. 

He tries to do something, move, speak, open his eyes, but he can’t, he feels trapped in his own body, unable to do anything else besides let out a low, pitiful, whine, and the hand freezes. 

“Roman? Kiddo?” Patton? How is Patton here, he was… where had he been, in a cave? What, why can’t he remember anything? Why is he so heavy? He tries to move again, but that only increases the pounding in his head. He manages to tilt his head slightly, leaning further into Patton’s hand, something wet trickling down his face, though he isn’t sure why, he’s already slipping again. 

“Oh, Ro. Shh, it’s ok, kiddo. We’re ok. I… was so scared, for you, but you’re gonna be ok, now. We got you home, and Remus is getting better, too, and everything is ok.” He couldn’t shake the very distinct feeling that it wasn’t.  
…  
The next time he wakes, he shoots upwards, heart racing and head spinning, pounding, his throat dry, mouth parched and aching, and for a moment he doesn’t remember anything, he can’t remember where he is, what had happened, why it’s so dark, everything is a confused blur. 

“Roman, easy Roman, take a deep breath, kiddo.” He flinches at a touch to his shoulder, everything is jumbled up, he’s on something soft, thick blankets over him, he knows that isn’t right, he’d been somewhere else, he’d been… 

The cliff. The cliff, and Janus and Vee, that’s right, gods, that’s right. 

“How long?” He croaks out, shoving the covers aside, trying to get to his feet, growling as Patton gently pushes him back down. 

“You’ve been out for four days. They had to sedate you to get you back, you were fighting them, you weren’t in your right mind…” Four days. Four days, so much could have happened, damn it, why didn’t anyone listen to him when it really counted?!

“Where are they? Patton, please, tell me they haven’t been killed, tell me they’re safe-“ 

“Whoa, slow down, Ro, what… what are you talking about?” He’s ready to scream from frustration. 

“The people you found me with! WHERE ARE THEY!?” He shouts, a long moment of silence following his outburst. 

“Ro… they weren’t… people… they were… monsters.” 

“Yeah, I know. Now where are they?” 

“You know?!” 

“Patton, please, I don’t have time for this, where are they?!” He pleads. 

“the dungeons.” Comes Patton’s low whisper, and his breath catches. He shoves away Patton’s hand, that tried to push him back down, and forces himself to his feet, shivering slightly at the loss of his blanket. He stumbles a few steps, before finding the wall, leaning heavily against it, as he fumbles along its length, trying to find the door. He hisses as Patton takes his hands, freezing as one gently grips his chin, tilting it down so they’d be looking eye to eye, if he could see. 

“Roman. Can you… see me?” He squeezes his eyes shut, not that it changes anything, though it confirms Patton’s suspicions, if his gasp is anything to go by. “Oh, Roman… was it… the gorgon?” That’s a shock to his system. He jerks back, things clicking into place in his mind. Janus’s hesitation to tell him what he was, the hisses, the brushes of smoothness now registered as scales. Gorgon. 

Fuck. Gorgon. And he’s sure he’d heard the word blindfold, before he got knocked out, being grabbed and chained and thrown in the dark, unable to see… well, he knows at least how terrifying that last part is. And even he knows cold and snakes didn’t mix, if he’s been down there for four days, if he’s been hurt at all… 

His stomach twists with guilt, because he hasn’t even thought about Vee, yet, hasn’t even considered what he must be going through, no doubt they’re in separate cells, and he’s just being forced to watch, as Janus suffers, as he slowly freezes, and he realizes suddenly he’s panicking again. 

He forces himself to breathe, to get it under control, he can’t afford to panic right now, and he can’t afford to let his thoughts slip to Remus, or he’ll break all over again.

“No. He would never hurt me, Patton, never. Neither him nor Vee.” 

“Vee? Is that the… the Drider?” He nearly face palms, gods, he’s oblivious. 

“Yes. I need to see them, Patton, please, you have to get me to them, I can’t make it by myself, I can’t…” He can feel more tears of frustration falling, at his own uselessness, and he angrily swipes them away. 

“ok.” Patton says, so softly he wasn’t even sure he’d actually heard it. 

“what?” 

“Ok. I trust you, Roman. If you say that neither of them would hurt you, then I believe you. At least let me help you put on some warmer clothes, before we go, ok?” He nods, letting Patton help him into a soft sweater and warm slippers, draping his cloak over his shoulders, before Patton slips a hand into his, carefully guiding him out the door.   
…  
In the end, he was infinitely glad for Patton’s presence. He doubts he would have been able to make it down the first flight of stairs by himself, much less the third that led down underneath the castle to the depths. Aside from the challenge of navigating the hallways without eyesight, which would maybe have been doable, he’d walked them enough times, he’d overestimated just how much strength he had. His legs were weak and wobbly, and he needed to take breaks several times, to catch his breath. 

Finally, the reaches the entrance to the dungeons, and he shivers, feeling his breath plume in front of him. He’s also absurdly glad that Patton had convinced him to change before coming down, otherwise he’d be freezing. 

He does his best to straighten, as he hears the guards catch sight of them, based on the clank of metal from them standing at alert. 

“Prince Roman. We were not expecting you.” He forces a smile to his lips, to remain calm and collected. 

“Well, I am feeling much better and much more like my usual self. Lord Patton here is simply escorting me to see the prisoners.” He can sense their hesitation, but Patton must have nodded, because then the door to the dungeons are creaking open, Patton is thanking the guard, and he hears a clank of keys, before he feels them pressed into his hand. 

“Your set, My Prince. We kept them safe in your absence.” He nods, for once grateful that part of his duties are questioning prisoners and throwing traitors in jail, if it meant he’d be able to get his friends out sooner. A few steps in and he hears the door creak shut behind them. The door is thick, they won’t have to worry about being overheard. 

“Hello?” He calls out, hearing something shift in a cell down the row, to his left, and the shuffle of too many feet. 

“Roman?” Comes the surprised voice, and he could sob from relief. He stumbles over to the bars, Patton helping to steady him, before drawing back slightly, no doubt a bit shy of Vee’s spider like appearance. 

“Vee. Hold on, I’m getting you out of here. Are you hurt? Patton, is he hurt?” He asks, frantically fumbling through his keys, trying to feel out the right one. 

“I’m… I’m fine. Relatively fine.” 

“Pat?” 

“He’s got a bruise, some swelling on his face, some cuts, on his… body, and… and they’ve muzzle him. He’s also chained by a collar to the wall.” His face twists in fury, hands trembling harder as he fights to keep his composure. 

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Go get Janus. He’s not… it’s the cold, he can’t stay in this cold, Roman.” The fear in Virgil’s voice makes his heart rate spike. He’s scared, Virgil’s desperately scared. “he stopped responding to me yesterday. I was keeping him talking, keeping him awake, but he stopped responding and the guards wouldn’t come when I shouted, please, Roman-“ 

“ok. Ok, but we’re getting you out, too. I promise, Vee. I promise I will set this all right.” He swears, letting Patton grab his hand, pulling him along until he stops suddenly, causing Roman to run into his back with a slight ‘ooph’. 

“oh.” Pat’s voice is quiet and small, two things it rarely is, and he feels himself on the edge of panic again. 

“Get me in there.” He orders, snapping Patton too, handing him the key ring. He hears clinking, then the metal door sliding open, and immediately he’s in the cell, hands searching, gasping as he finally finds Janus. 

His skin is freezing, nearly as cold as the stone he’s laying on. His breathing is slow and deep, unnaturally so, and without thinking, he pulls him onto his lap, wincing at the clanking of chains. 

“get them off. Please.” He requests quietly, regret washing through him. He hears Patton unlocking each one, getting the manacles off his wrists, ankles, knowing they must be sore at the very least, chafed raw and red at the worst. He pulls his cloak around them both, keeping Janus close so he can absorb his body heat, stilling as he feels him stir slightly. 

“Janus?” He brushes his hand over where someone else’s hair would be, cracking a smile as he feels the smooth scales of snakes, all of whom let out content hisses at his gentle pets, nuzzling against his hand. Janus stirs once more, a small groan escaping him. 

“R… roman?” His voice is so little, so different from the confident smoothness he’s used to flustering him. 

“I’ve got you, Jan. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m taking you out of here, alright? We’re going to get you all cozied up somewhere nice and warm. You and Vee both. And no one else is going to lay a hand on you, or they will face my wrath. I promise.” Janus nuzzles closer to him, and on impulse, he leans down, softly pressing a kiss to his forehead, frowning as he feels fabric. “I’m taking this off, ok?” He’s surprised as two of Janus’s hands flew to cover his, stopping him. 

“Don’t. don’t wanna hurt anyone, on accident.” Janus mumbles, and his heart breaks. 

“You won’t. I trust you, Janus. I know you won’t. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll keep it on.” He feels Janus nod, before he goes still once more, though all of his arms are either wrapped around him or clinging tightly to his shirt. 

“Alright. I need to get him out of here. I’ll have the guards escort us back to my rooms. Can you handle freeing Virgil?” He asks, the question hanging in the air a moment. “Pat. It’s ok if you can’t. I can-“ 

“No. No, I can do it. Sure, he’s part spider, but… but he’s part person, too. And… and I don’t know what exactly happened, but they clearly mean a lot to you, and if they’re your friends then they’re mine, too.” Patton answers, voice shaking just a bit, though it’s tempered with determined fierceness. 

“Thank you, Pat.” 

“Of course.” He feels Patton’s arms around his shoulders, helping him to his feet, keeping him steady with Janus in his arms, as they make their way back towards Virgil’s cell. 

“Jan!” He hears Virgil jolt forwards, then a hiss of pain, and clanking, no doubt as the collar jerked him back, cutting into his throat. He winces in sympathy.

“He recognized me. He’s not gone, Vee, and I’m going to make sure he’s alright. Patton’s going to get you out, but he needs to get warmed up, I can’t wait.” He knows Vee understands the unasked question in his voice, the permission he’s waiting for, because if Virgil says to wait for him, he will. 

“ok. Ok, go, get him safe, Roman. I… trust you.” He lets out a small smile at that, reaching a hand through the bars, feeling Vee squeeze it once. 

“I’m sorry for all of this.” He whispers, pressing his head against the bars, feeling Virgil on the other side, as close as he can get. 

“I know. That’s why I’m not angry at you for it. Now go get our snake somewhere warm.” He draws away with a nod, squaring his shoulders as he pushes open the doors to the dungeon, putting on his most intimidating, regal airs. 

“The prisoners are being released into mine and Lord Patton’s custody. There has been a grave misunderstanding about the events leading up to their imprisonment. They will be treated with the utmost respect and the same status as Lord Patton and myself. Any who harm them or otherwise cause them injury shall answer to me. Is this understood?” He asks, though it isn’t really a question. He can sense the confusion from the guards, and his eyes harden. 

“Am. I. Understood?” This time he’s met with a quick chorus of ‘yes sirs’, and he knows there will be talk, but at least the message will be spread and respected, despite their questions. 

“Good. Now, escort me back to my rooms, please, and have the kitchen send up something warm and some tea.”   
…  
Patton takes a deep breath, turning back to Vee, once he’s sure that Roman won’t receive any trouble from the guards. He tries not to wince at Virgil’s legs, so many legs, but his face isn’t much better, with all those eyes. He takes another breath, focusing instead on the keys, unlocking the door. 

“Okay. Okay, I’m gonna get that off, first.” He says, swallowing hard as he meets Vee’s eyes once more, gesturing to the muzzle that’s clamping his sharp pincers shut, digging into his skin, breaking through, if the dark red is anything to go by. 

His hands are shaking, as he unlocks it, unclamping the metal, jumping at Vee’s hiss, flinching back, though he realizes quickly it isn’t aggressive, it’s from pain, his eyes squeezed shut, lines of red tracing his face from where he’d pulled and fought against the muzzle. 

On closer inspection, he realizes that his body is bruised almost head to toe, no doubt from fighting back against the soldiers, from trying to fight his way to Janus, and what he’d taken to just be patches of his skin on his spider body that were darker were actually scrapes, dried with blood. 

“Oh, sweetie. Here, let me get that off, then we can go get you all cleaned up, ok?” He asks, voice soft, Vee wincing as he carefully sets a hand on his arm, coaxing him downwards so he can reach the collar, stifling a hurt gasp at how bad the skin underneath looks, rubbed down to the flesh, blood slowly oozing out of the ring pattern inset from him pulling and fighting it. His hands are cut up and bloodied too, from tearing at his restraints. Vee shudders as the metal falls to the floor with a loud clang, arms curling around himself protectively as he slowly sinks to his knees, and Patton realizes he’s crying. 

“Oh, you’re just a little anxious baby, aren’t you?” He murmurs, sinking down with him, hesitantly wrapping his arms around the Drider, surprised as he melts into his embrace, shaking with gut wrenching sobs. 

“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright. You’re gonna be ok, sweetie. Everything’s gonna be ok.” He murmurs, feeling any reservations about Vee dissolving along with his tears.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus wakes up.

He’s warm. 

He doesn’t remember having been warm. 

He remembers cold. Cold that seeped into his skin, into his bones, that weighed him down and left him so icy he couldn’t even shiver, couldn’t even think, anymore. He remembered Virgil’s voice, calling to him, panicked and scared, though he couldn’t place why, through the haze of numbness that took over his every sense. 

He remembered pain, his arms being wrenched behind him, chains being fastened to his every limb, he remembered thick, scratchy material, covering his eyes, something in his mouth, choking him, preventing him from speaking, burning in his throat. 

But he’s warm, now. He’s warm, and he feels safe, and he can hear voices, around him, ones he knows, and ones he doesn’t. 

“-been out a long time.” That’s Virgil, nervous, but not panicking. 

“I know. But they need the rest. They’ve both been through so much. And so have you.” He doesn’t know that voice, but it sounds as warm as he feels, kind and caring. 

“I can’t. Not until I know he’s alright.” He rolls over, pressing himself further into the warmth, his arms clinging to it like his life depends on it, it’s so warm. In response, he feels the warmth move, feels a hand brush against his snakes, surprised as they simply curl around the hand, nuzzling close to it, trapping it against his head. They usually didn’t take kindly to people trying to pet them. He hears a low chuckle, realizing the warmth he’s against is a person. He opens his eyes, met by darkness, panic spiking for a moment, before he remembers vaguely the dungeons. Remembers Roman. 

“Jan? Are you awake?” Virgil. He nods, trying to clear his throat, but it rasps painfully instead. 

“Here, Jan, let me help.” He winces as he’s shifted upright, feeling Roman’s hand gently dislodge itself from his snakes, wrapping around his shoulders and helping him upright, propping him up against what feels like a pile of pillows, and also his chest. 

“Oh thank gods. You scared me, Jan, I…” He reaches out, immediately feeling Virgil grasp his hand, perching on the edge of the bed. He can feel him staring at him, convincing himself he’s really here, really fine. 

“here.” Something’s held to his lips, and he drinks, melting at the warmth that flows through him, the tea perfect against his sore throat, and he already feels more like himself. 

“Janus. I want to take this off, ok?” Roman asks, voice soft, and he feels him trace the edge of the blindfold with a finger, the touch soft and warm. 

“you can’t. I’ll hurt someone, there’s too many people, Ro, anyone who walks in-“ 

“We’ve given everyone strict instructions to knock before entering. And Patton has an amulet that will protect him from your gaze. You will not harm anyone in this room, Janus, and I hate doing this to you. I hate keeping you in the dark.” Roman’s voice cracks, and he can imagine just what Roman isn’t saying, just what he’s mourning, just why he’s so determined not to force him to stay blindfolded. “Do you trust me?” Is a mere whisper in his ear, and he shivers, not from any kind of cold, surprised that the answer drops so easily from his lips. 

“yessss.” Then the fabric is being slowly untied, pulled away, and he blinks blearily, trying to clear his vision. The first thing he sees is Virgil, his face slowly coming into focus, and a small smile graces his lips. 

“virgil.” He says softly, taking in the bruises and scrapes on his best friend, the bandages that cover parts of his torso and thorax, wrapped carefully around his neck, though he seems overall unharmed, overall alright. He’s not totally prepared for Virgil to throw himself at him, squeezing him in a tight hug that hurts his chest, from where he must have gotten kicked in the scuffle. 

After a long moment he pulls back somewhat sheepishly, keeping ahold of his hand. His gaze carefully sweeps the room, settling first on Roman, whom he’s leaning against, who looks tired, worried, but otherwise unhurt, before he turned his gaze hesitantly to the other human in the room, Patton. 

He has blue eyes, light curly hair, his expression soft and worried, and… unafraid. Unafraid, in a room with two beings who could kill him in the width of a single breath. 

“hi. I’m Patton.” Patton says, somewhat shyly, smiling kindly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Is it?” Escapes his mouth, and Patton’s brow crinkles. 

“Of course it is! You saved Roman!” 

“I’m so sorry, Janus. I didn’t mean for this to happen, to you. I’m sorry I didn’t come for you sooner, I was sedated, otherwise I swear, you wouldn’t have been down there for even a second.” His attention shifts back to Roman, and he pushes himself further upright, gently placing a hand on each of his cheeks, stroking them lightly with his thumbs, Roman immediately melting into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“I know. I forgive you, Roman, even though you haven’t done anything wrong, little one.”

“I'm a coward.” Roman whispers, and he hisses.

“now that is simply not true.” 

“I haven’t faced my brother, yet. I haven’t been to see him, I haven’t wanted to see him, not that I really can, anyways.” Roman chokes out a laugh, though it’s raspy and broken. “He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know, yet and until he does I can just… just pretend, just pretend everything’s fine and nothing has changed. I can pretend I won’t lose everything, once he knows. Once everyone knows.” 

“Oh, little one. Surely it won’t be that catastrophic.” He brushes a thumb once more across Roman’s face, caressing his forehead, stroking through his hair, causing Roman to shudder. “Surely it’s good, at least, that he’s recovered.” 

“He has. I… Patton’s told me. I told him, told Rem, I didn’t… didn’t want to see him. Not yet. So Pat’s been passing messages, giving updates. It only took a few days, the potion worked wonders, he’s nearly full strength, though he’s still dealing with occasional exhaustion. He’s… worried about me.” 

“He’s devastated. He thought you died, Remus. I thought I watched you die, and I had to come home and the first thing Remus asked when he woke up was where you were, if you were ok, and I had to tell him…” Patton broke off, his voice breaking, and Janus is surprised to see Virgil go to him, hesitantly squeeze his hand, which is met with a watery smile from Patton, who squeezes back. “He’s so scared for you, Roman. He’s so scared and confused and keeps thinking that he must have done something wrong, and I can’t tell him why, and it’s tearing the both of us up.” 

“It’s eating you up inside too, Roman. You have to face him, darling. It won’t do anyone any good to put this off further.” Roman’s shoulders sags, and he rests his forehead against his chest, letting out a shuddering breath. 

“I know.” 

“It will be ok, my darling. I know you don’t think it will be, but it will.” He teases two of his hands through Roman’s hair, two more wrapping around his shoulders, his final two on his waist, holding him close. He presses a kiss to the top of his hair, Roman melting into him, trembling slightly. “It will be ok.” Roman mumbles something unintelligible against him, that sounds vaguely unhappy, and he hushes him gently, kissing his cheek this time, warmth rushing through him as Roman nuzzles against him, whining slightly as he pulls away. 

“shh, shh, shh. I’m not going anywhere, little one, my precious little thing, you get some more rest. Get some more rest and then we can face your brother together. I promise it won’t be nearly as bad as you think. I promise you will always have a place with me, if nothing else.” 

“that’s enough. If I’ve you, that’s enough.” Roman mumbles sleepily, and his breath catches. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Roman.” Roman grumbles, eyes blearily blinking back open once more. 

“I know exactly what I’m saying, Janus. I mean it.” He’s equally surprised when Roman leans forwards, either drowsiness or courage or both taking away his inhibition just enough, electric jolts running through him as Roman’s lips meet his. 

It’s warm. It sends warmth fizzing through him, down to his marrow, heat rushing to his face, his snakes hissing and curling up into a messy nest at the pleasure, and without really thinking, he kisses back, pressing Roman closer, holding him tighter, so there isn’t an inch of space between them, and when it finally stops he’s lightheaded, gasping in air, though the two aren’t necessarily related.

“roman…” he whispers, still a bit awestruck, a bit breathless, a bit frazzled. 

“I mean it.” Roman murmurs back warmly, cuddling against him, slipping off to sleep with a happy sigh. 

“That’s cheating, darling. You can’t just do that and then pass out before I can ask anything more.” He mumbles, huffing, but that warmth is still filling him up, and he can’t possibly be actually annoyed, not right now. He can’t bring himself to care about the eyes on him, either, he can barely see straight much less think enough to answer any questions they have. 

Instead, he shifts himself and Roman so they’re laying down once more, so he’s curled around Roman, who is still pressed to his chest, and lets himself fall asleep. He’s still exhausted, his body still slow from the cold, and no matter how much adrenaline he’s had in the last few minutes, the crash is enough to send him to sleep.   
…  
“So. That happened.” Virgil says, getting a giggle out of Patton, before he slumps back in his seat, dropping his head into his hands, unable to help a sob from bubbling out of him. 

“Patton? Are you… ok? What should I do?” He half sobbed, half laughed hysterically at Vigil’s confused attempts to help, shaking his head. 

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t… he works so hard, V. He’s always busy, always running drills or patrolling, or guarding Remus, or guarding me, even when we’re in meetings or formal events, every minute of every day, he’s on watch, protecting us. I try so hard, to make sure he knows that isn’t all on his shoulders, it’s not all his burden, not everything rests on his shoulders. I thought he believed me, at least a little bit, but he doesn’t, does he?” He asks tearily, sniffling into his hands.

“That isn’t all on you, either, Patton. You know that right? He knows you care. He knows you and Remus care, he just… he doesn’t think that it matters, in the grander scheme of things. He doesn’t think he’s worth the same as you or anyone else, he doesn’t think his life is worth anything, if it’s spent keeping the kingdom safe.” 

“But I…” He folds against Virgil, as he hugs him, shaking as he tries to catch his breath, to stop his sobs. “I was so scared. I was holding on so tight, and he let go, and I couldn’t… I had to leave him. I knew he could be down there, hurt, but I had to choose to leave him.” He gasped out. “I had to choose him or Remus, and I chose Remus, how could I do that, how could I do that to him?! I’m just as bad as they were, it’s no wonder he thinks he doesn’t matter, why would he, when I did exactly what he’d expect me to?” 

“You did the best you could. You did the safe thing, Patton, you know you did. You couldn’t spend time looking for Roman, when it wasn’t even a sure bet, that you’d find him at all, alive or otherwise. You knew you could help Remus. You didn’t know if you could help Roman. You did the best thing you could do in a hard, awful situation. And it’s ok, yeah?” 

“n-no, no-“ 

“Yes, yes it is, Patton, it is. Cause me and Jan found him, and took care of him, and now everyone’s home safe and sound.” 

“You aren’t.” He mumbles, extricating himself from V’s embrace, at his confused noise. “You and Janus. You aren’t home, safe and sound. You got dragged out of your home hurt and terrefied when all you did was the best you could to take care of a total stranger.” V sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, ok, not super pleased about all that, but still. We’re safe now, and I don’t think Jan would have left Roman’s side either way, and I won’t leave him, so we’d all end up here eventually, anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be ok.” V smiles smally, though it’s a tired thing, as he glances away. 

“I know, and I’m… not. Not really. Ok. I…” V trails off, shaking his head. “I can’t, right now, I can’t.” 

“That’s ok, too, V. But I’m here for you, if you ever do want to talk about it.” 

“I… thank you, Patton. I’ll keep an eye on them. You should go check on Remus, keep him from kicking his way in.” He recognizes it as the request to be alone that it is, and nods, scrubbing his eyes clear of tears and counting a couple breaths to steady himself. 

“Ok. If anyone needs anything, just call.” V nods, glancing at the little bell on the small table beside him, enchanted to alert him and Remus if someone rang it. He gives V one last smile, before slipping out the door, closing it quietly behind him, shoulders slumping as he sighs. 

“Patton?” He smiles slightly, looking up at Remus’s voice, seeing him coming up the stairs from one of the lower floors. He’s been busy, catching up on everything he missed while he was ill, though he’s been doing his best to keep Remus from working himself too hard. He looks a bit pale, now, though not nearly as ashen as he was, when he was sick, gods, he was so pale, almost gray, and he’s still gaunt, from all the weight he lost. “Oh, dear heart.” Remus murmurs, and he realizes he’s crying. “Come here, sweetness.” He throws himself into Remus’s arms, focusing on the steady beat of his heart, the stable inhale and exhales, with no hint of those rasping breaths that had shaken his frame, rattled his chest. He was ok, Remus is ok, he’s ok. 

“Is everything alright, dear heart?” Remus asks, rubbing his back gently. He knows what he’s asking, if he’s ok, if Roman’s ok, if something has gone wrong with everything. 

“I just… I hate this. I hate keeping things from you, I hate seeing the both of you so upset, and hurt, and I just… I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry for anything, dear heart. I know this is stressful, and you’re doing so well, you’re so good for me, dearest, you’re so wonderful, and I love you, so much, Patton. I love you.” Remus murmurs, and he presses closer against him, muffling another sob against his chest, because he’d thought, he’d been so afraid, for so long, that he would never hear Remus say those words again. He feels Remus kiss his head, swaying with him slowly, keeping up a steady stream of soft chatter, until he calms enough to take some deep breaths. 

“thank you.” He mumbles, looking up at Remus, who smiles down at him, with such a warm, soft look on his face, he can’t help but stand on his tiptoes, and press a kiss to his lips. 

“Of course, dear heart.” Remus’s eyes darken slightly as they pull apart, his gaze finding its way to the door to Roman’s room. 

“How is he?” 

“…better, just a bit. He’s resting now. I think next time he’s awake, he’ll be ready to speak with you. It’s… hard, for him. So much has happened, and we both know how he thinks.” Remus scoffs, looking away. 

“You mean how he was trained to think. I know exactly why he did what he did, Patton, and while I’m grateful he kept you safe, I hate that it was so… easy, a choice for him. And I hate that I feel guilty, for feeling relieved that you had made it home, when he hadn’t. I’m guilty for feeling grateful, and I don’t… I don’t know what to do, about any of it.” Remus rakes a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated hiss of air. “I don’t know how to make him understand how important he is.” 

“His… new friends are helping with that, quite a bit. Or trying too, at least. I don’t think they’ll let him get away with that kind of thinking nearly as often as he has been.” 

“I should have noticed. I should have known, I’m his brother, I should have known-“ His heart cracks a little at the anguish in Remus’s voice, the pain in his eyes, and he wants nothing more than to hold him and never let go. 

“He’s so good at hiding, Remus. If he didn’t want us to know, we wouldn’t. He’s gone so often, and when he’s here, he’s doing a million things at a million miles an hour. I don’t think he even knew how bad he was getting, he never has time to actually think about it. He just needs time.” 

“I know. I know, Pat.” Remus mumbles back, and his breath catches as Remus suddenly sways, catching himself against the wall, leaning against it heavily for a moment, taking deep breaths in and out. 

“You’ve wound yourself up, too much, haven’t you? You’ve pushed yourself enough, for today. It’s time for some rest.” He lays a hand on Remus’s arm, who huffs, leaning down so their foreheads are resting against each other, and there’s something so calming, about Remus being right here, right here and present and himself. 

“Alright, dear heart. I suppose a little rest couldn’t hurt. Especially if I have you there, to cuddle like a teddy bear.” He laughs slightly at that, Remus kissing him, soft and sweet, and gods, he loves him, he almost starts crying again, at how much he loves him. 

“don’t leave me. Please, Remus, don’t do that to me, don’t…” 

“Shhh, dearest. I won’t, I won’t ever. Nothing will ever take me from you, Patton, I promise. I promise, I’ll always find my way back.”


End file.
